Long Leg Women In Panties

know where rainbows go to die

On the death of Bob Kaufman

know where rainbows go to die
I followed your footsteps
through a strange land where the sighs unexplored
silver
tried to hide in the shadows and skies of dementia
oboe
together we walked through a city of green hallucinatory tale

of words and exhausted
thousand nights when your flaming

suffering heart was beating his bones
in time with the sounds of birds
bright neon road schemes are murdered

I was there and I saw your love proclaimed

broken into a smile as printed in yesterday's headlines
blood on the wings of a bumblebee and yes

take your eyes
January 12
dawn rose
singing the blues

defeated the calendar before the face of that Sunday
injury and even redwoods wept
your
passage but no bell sounded in the depths of winter
the snail snarled
clock or anus
roses
grew from the tail of a comet, only rusted
a starfish wool
wandered on the beach of the planets
stolen when a lizard tattooed
lost her dress echoes
cool while you dance with the great king of Harlem
along the alleys of
paradise into a blaze of flaming umbrellas

remember where the posts were leaning
antique dealers selling their bags and dreams of twenty-dollar
needy

poet and I saw you buy the truth
in a red balloon and as
a legendary alchemist
you cooked the blood of the stars but instead of death

ricavasti music from your spoon

Martin Matz